Bonds Left Unbroken
by The Mocking J
Summary: Glimpses into what life could have been like had they gone together. (AU) [Azran Legacy spoilers]
1. Chapter 1

_**[[**_**Spoilers: **_**MAJOR AZRAN LEGACY SPOILERS. **_

**Disclaimer: **_**Don't own.]]**_

* * *

**Bonds Left Unbroken**

"...It's such a shame... You know we can't take both of you. "

I nod, smiling. "Yes, but I know Hershel will be happy." My little brother doesn't comment, thankfully. His wellbeing is all that matters now.

"And what about you?"

"Oh, don't worry; a family in the village will take care of me. The, uh... the Phibs!" Hopefully they won't find out that _I'm_ telling fibs. (I actually plan on leaving with Mr Raymond soon.) But I'm a very good liar... My brother clings to my back tightly and I pat his shoulder.

"I see," Mrs Layton seems to accept my story. "Well, it was nice to meet you, anyway."

"You too."

As much as it hurts, I must let my brother go. I can see the confusion and heartache in his eyes as he's gently ushered towards the cab. He's smart for his age, but he can't understand why we're being torn apart. I remain in the doorway, willing him (and partly myself) to accept it. _Be happy, Brother._ _This is the start of your new life..._

"N-no... NO!" There is a sudden howl. My sibling squirms past Mrs Layton and charges back to the house. Back to me. Racked with sobs, he throws his arms around my waist, burying his head in the front of my vest. "I DON'T WANT TO LEAVE MY BIG BROTHER!"

"Theo..." I breathe. He's a fairly quiet boy– I've never seen him so upset before, not even after our parents were kidnapped. "Stop it," I hiss, trying to be strict with him. This could ruin his chances of getting adopted...!

Mr and Mrs Layton watch with concerned, shocked expressions as I attempt to detach myself from my brother. But he stubbornly hangs on; weeping, sobbing, begging me.

"You _need_ to go," I grind out. There may be tears in my own eyes, but I force them back. "You can't stay here! J-just _go...!" _A quivering gasp escapes my lips. I can't do it. I can't say goodbye to him like this...

For these past moments, the Laytons have been immersed in serious conversation:

"Perhaps... Perhaps we could take care of both of them?" Mrs Layton murmurs. "I can't bear to separate the poor dears..."

"I know it's hard for them, Lucille," her husband replies. "But we don't want to make any rash decisions."

"All we've ever wanted is a child of our own. But I couldn't live with myself if that child was unhappy."

"...Neither could I," Mr Layton eventually agrees. His mind made up, the man approaches the pair of us. My brother's grip tightens; he's scared he will be pulled away from me. Rather, Mr Layton puts a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Son... would you like to stay with us as well?"

With his kind, fatherly offer, my resolve finally comes crumbling down. The pent-up tears pour out like a burst dam. When I start crying, I can't stop. "Y-yes, please!"

I realize now, I'm not ready to get revenge on Targent and the Azran for taking my parents away. I'm not ready to abandon my brother. I'm not ready to be alone yet.

This is how my brother and I start our new lives together. Our lives as Hershel and Desmond Layton.

* * *

_**[[Now that I've finished Randall's Road Trip, I can start this. I've yet to write a story Descole & Layton related. So here you go.]] **_


	2. Chapter 2

'_Dear Wise Guardian, _

_If you're reading this, don't worry about me. Things have changed. I'll be living with my brother and the adoptive family for a little while. As soon as we reach their residence, I'll be in touch with you._

_-Your friend, Desmond (Please address me as such from now on).'_

After placing a scrawled note (devoid of any real names) for Raymond on the kitchen windowsill, I rush upstairs to retrieve the worn brown rucksack once belonging to my father. Originally I'd prepared to leave with Raymond, so the bag contains several books, spare clothes, a torch and some items salvaged from my father's study. When packing my brother's bag, I made sure he took a few toys; however, I only have room for the essentials.

I cast a longing look at the novels cramming my bedroom shelves. On my desk is the_ Volume of Fairytales_ my mother gave me. I'm a bit old for fairytales, but surely I have enough space for _one _more book...

Packing complete, I heave the rucksack onto my shoulders and dash into the living room. Since our parents' abduction, my brother and I have been sleeping down here in a tent. (Just in case we ever needed to make quick escape out the back door.) I grab a family photo off the mantelpiece. This way I'll never forget what's been stolen from us, or forgive the ones responsible.

My brother latches onto my hand the instant I return to the hall. (Does he really believe I would desert him now?)

Mr Layton asks, "Are you ready to go, son...?"

"Please," I whisper. "Just call me Desmond." (It's the name of a character from an adventure story I really enjoyed about two brothers: _'Desmond and Descole'._)

I squeeze my brother..._Hershel's _hand to remind him of the name-switch. I hope it sinks in; we don't want Targent tracking us.

As we enter the cab, Hershel and I gaze out the window for our last view of the little red-roofed house on the hill. The front garden is overgrown, dust coats the windows and ivy creeps up the walls. It looks so... lonely. That house is no longer our home. Only desolate memories and shattered dreams dwell there now.

Our old lives fade into the distance along with the village. I'll miss this place, despite never having many friends or that sense of utter _belonging. _The community will wonder for years what truly became of the Bronevs. _'Do you remember that nice family of archaeology nut heads?'_

Hershel sits between me and Mrs Layton, his head leaning against my shoulder as he nods off. I allow myself a small smile. Perhaps he can finally get a restful sleep.

For a while, we simply drive in silence, passing hills and fields. The Laytons probably don't know what to say. They arrived expecting to adopt one child, and they got saddled with two. Though, I'm hardly a child anymore...

"You're very good with him."

I glance from the dozing Hershel to Mrs Layton. She's smiling at me faintly. "Erm, yes," I mumble.

She seems hesitant, but pats my arm comfortingly. "If there's anything you would like to talk about, please don't be afraid, dear."

"I won't— I mean, thank you."

In an attempt to ease the awkwardness, Mr Layton pipes up from the passenger seat, "What do think of puzzles, Desmond?"

"Puzzles?" I raise an eyebrow. _What do puzzles have to do with anything?_

"Oh, Roland," his wife sighs. "Not now..."

"I can't imagine a better time for puzzles," Mr Layton chuckles. "Here, my boy, why don't you give this one a try?"

I'm always up for a challenge, even given how... curious Mr Layton's request is. He's impressed by how quickly I answer his puzzles, all correct of course.

"Ha! No puzzle can stand in my way!"

Unfortunately, I get a bit carried away and my triumphant declarations wake Hershel. He yawns, subconsciously reaching for my hand. Once he's satisfied that I haven't disappeared, his drowsy gaze shifts to the window. Hershel gasps when the looming city comes into focus.

"Is that _London?!"_

* * *

_**[[I'm really excited to write this! (I just hope it goes better than my other AU fic -.-) I reckon each chapter will be roughly 500 words as they are supposed to be 'glimpses'. Before moving to Stansbury, Lucille and Roland lived in London when they adopted Hershel, right? I hope I'm right, anyway T_T And I think Raymond's name means 'wise guardian', so that's his code name. It's either that or 'eyebrows'.]] **_


	3. Chapter 3

The Laytons live in the suburbs of London; in a cosy bungalow with a decent sized kitchen, an old fashioned living room and a small garden. There are only two bedrooms, so Hershel and I are sharing. Hershel takes the bed while I sleep on some settee pillows Mrs Layton arranged on the floor. Mr Layton has promised to buy me a proper bed soon, but I don't care as long as Hershel is comfortable.

However, during our third night here Hershel's voice cries out through the darkness: "No, p-_please!_ Leave us alone! Don't take my brother too...!"

My eyes snap open, instantly alert. When I realize Hershel is only dreaming, I jump onto his bed and shake him awake. "Shhh, Hershel it's alright— they're gone now. We're _safe_..."

Hershel's breathing is ragged. He blinks at me; his eyes round and glistening with tears. "Her... _D-Desmond? _I... I thought the bad people had gotten you, like Mummy and Daddy—" He yelps when Mr and Mrs Layton suddenly burst into our room, switching the light on.

"Good heavens, you two, what's the matter?" Mrs Layton gasps. She's as white as her cotton pyjamas.

I explain, "We're fine. Hershel just had a nightmare."

Mrs Layton turns to Hershel in concern and he starts bawling all over again. "There, there, you poor dear..." She wraps her arms around him, rocking him back on forth. Meanwhile, Mr Layton goes out to fetch some tissues and a soothing cup of tea. ("For the young lad's nerves.")

When Hershel has calmed down and is safely tucked in bed once more, he hiccups, "C-can I have a story, please?"

"Of course you can..." Mrs Layton glances towards the set of drawers where our few possessions have been placed. "Which one would you like me to read?"

"I want Desmond to read to me."

"Alright, then," I say, picking up the _Volume of Fairytales _and sitting on the edge of his bed. I flick to a random page and begin to read aloud in a dramatic tone that Hershel always finds entertaining. _"Long ago in a lawless age, a pack of bandits invaded a small village..."_

For several minutes, Mrs Layton hovers in the doorway, uncertain whether her attention is still required. Hershel doesn't even notice when she finally leaves the room; he's too engrossed in the tale about the spectre that protected its town at the call of a farm girl's flute.

When the story is finished, my brother whispers, "I wish we had a magic flute. Then we could call the spectre and he could look after us."

I close the book, killing the childish fantasy. (Unfortunately for us, there's no such thing as magic.) I tell him firmly, "_Mr and Mrs Layton_ are looking after us now."

"Are they our new mummy and daddy?"

His question catches me off guard. "No..." I murmur. As kind as the Laytons are, they can ever replace our _real _parents. "But you can call them _Ma _and _Pa _if you like._" _(They're rather unusual names, but it feels like a betrayal to address them as 'Mum and Dad'.)

"Okay..." Hershel leans his head against his pillow. "'Night, Desmond..."

"Goodnight." As I return the _Volume of Fairytales _to the drawer, I pick up a pen and a piece of paper.

'_Dear Wise Guardian, _

_We've reached the family's residence without problem. They have been very welcoming towards us. Still, my brother continues to have nightmares...' _

Within the letter, I enclose a puzzle (Mr Layton gave me the idea) that only Raymond should be able to solve; this will inform him of our location. Tomorrow when Mrs Layton takes us shopping, I will send it to him.


	4. Chapter 4

Time passes peacefully with the Laytons, much to my relief.

Hershel and I start attending school here (which is mediocre compared to our old school in the village). My brother's nightmares gradually dwindle; he becomes more cheerful day by day. His teachers adore him as he is a bright boy with a quiet but courteous manner_. _("A little angel.") I'm just as clever as him, though I have the tendency to be "distant". Ironically, by behaving aloofly I attract even _more _attention to myself. Mr and Mrs Layton are eventually called in about my lack of participation in class.

Meanwhile, Hershel and I have been left in the care of Mr Layton's younger brother, Douglas. "Uncle Doug" (as he insists we call him) and his wife Dana are visiting London for the week. Their timing _couldn't be more perfect_.

Dana has gone shopping, leaving only Doug to entertain us with his endless fishing stories. I can handle Mr Layton's puzzles as they test my mental capability, but this... this is pure _torture_.

"Did I tell you boys about the time I caught a _sixteen inch_ _perch_ at the Memory Knoll?"

"Yes, you did, three times already," I mutter, trying to complete my homework at the kitchen table. By nature I care very little for aquatic creatures, so Doug's ramblings bore me to death. If he must have a pastime relating to animals, why can't it be something exciting like lion taming or horseracing or dog training?

Hershel offers Doug some more tea and makes a polite attempt to change to subject. "Erm... What's the Memory Knoll, Uncle Doug?"

"It's a lovely little spot in Stansbury— the town where I live," Doug explains whimsically. "They say treasured memories are made at the Knoll. There's a hill where you can sit and relax watching the river. Perfect place for fishing, too!"

"Of course," I snark as we hear the front door open. Our surrogate parents are back along with Dana, who hauls her husband away before he can strike up another conversation that will keep us all night.

"It was nice meeting you, kids," Doug waves as Dana does. "You'll have to come to Stansbury sometime. The carp population is meant to be booming this year— "

"Yes, we'll keep in touch," Mrs Layton all but shoves our guests outside in her haste. "Goodbye, Doug, Dana. Have a safe journey back!"

"What's the rush, Lucille?" Mr Layton wonders as she renters the kitchen. He has taken a seat at the table, newspaper in hand. "I was hoping to catch up with Doug..."

"You two had plenty of time to catch up earlier," Mrs Layton reminds him. Then she sighs, "I'm sorry, I just need to talk to Desmond."

Hershel glances at me quizzically. _Are you in trouble? _

Without a word, I put down my pen and follow Mrs Layton into the hall. I wonder why she doesn't ask Mr Layton to join us. Maybe it's so he can distract Hershel... Or Mrs Layton probably feels it's her duty to take care of her flock like a protective mother hen. Thankfully, she doesn't seem angry (though, I have yet to see her angry, so I wouldn't know), just concerned.

Mrs Layton wrings her hands together. "Desmond... Your teacher, Miss Wake is very impressed with your work, but she's worried that you aren't happy in school. Are you finding it alright? Nobody's picking on you, are they?"

"Everything's fine," I shrug. "I'm just... shy, that's all." (Hershel's quiet too, but no one gives him this kind of grief!)

"Well, I told her you might take a little while to settle in, after what you and Hershel have been through–"

My heart freezes in my chest. "Y-you _told_ her about Hershel and me? You didn't tell her that you aren't our _real parents_, did you?" I'm panicking too much to notice the hurt that appears in her expression. "What have you _done_?" I growl. "They... they could find out the truth about us now!"

"Desmond!" The woman exclaims, reaching out for me. "Please, calm down! I'm sure none of the other children would think any less of you—"

"No, _you_ _don't understand!" _I charge upstairs as she covers her mouth, on the verge of tears.

I may be acting childishly; I may not have given Mrs Layton a chance to explain. But the temporary peace of mind I believed we'd found has been shattered. All I can see is Targent discovering our hiding place. They'll storm into the house to capture my brother and me. The Laytons will either be killed just for helping us, or taken away (if they're lucky).

Just like our parents...

_No! _I refuse to let that happen again. I grab a pen, rip out some paper and begin to write furiously:

'_Raymond, I need your help this instant!'_

* * *

_**[[Apologises for the lack of updates. Doug/Douglas appears in Miracle Mask. Though it's never specified if he's Lucille or Rolands' brother, I think he looks a lot like Roland, what their beards, the fact that you can't see either of their eyes, and their alluded friendship. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think Doug's wife's name is mentioned... so I called her Dana. I hope Desmond's tantrum back there wasn't unjustified!]]**_


End file.
